


I Wanna Take You To

by Pi (Rhea)



Category: The Losers (2010)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 08:23:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1091729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rhea/pseuds/Pi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is surprised at how well Cougar fits in when they have to go under cover at a gay club.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Wanna Take You To

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nerdwegian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdwegian/gifts).



> Thanks to dancing_butterfly for beta and encouragement!

 

Jensen tilts back in his desk chair. It creaks ominously but doesn't topple over.

"So what you're saying is we need a guy under cover." Clay's expression of exasperation reamins is unfazed. "Why don't you pick Aisha?" Jensen nods suggestively. Aisha doesn't even bother to glance up from where she's cleaning her gun for what must be the thousandth time. "I mean, points for hotness," his grin is met with a sharp frown from Clay.

"The club has a primarily male clientele. I'm sure you can see why neither Roque nor myself would be appropriate for this mission."

Jensen rolls his eyes."Fine. I get it, I'm young, I'm hot. Obvious choice, but hey why not Cougar he's-"

"He's going with you." Clay cut him off.

"Oh." Jensen blinks, "well. Okay But you know, you could still go. You're," Jensen gesticulates in the general vicinity of Clay's chest. "hairy enough and you've got that older, rumble-voiced, bearded thing going." Clay sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Jensen-"

"No really, you're totally Ursus thibetanus. Sorta stocky with grey chest-fur and-

"Jensen!" Jensen jumps a little in his chair. Behind him there's the recognizable snick of one of Roque's knives. Jensen doesn't spin around but his shoulders twitch under Roque's looming.

"Try not to get yourself roofied." Clay advises

"Wait, is that actually a concern?" Jensen calls after him, but Clay has already followed Roque out of the room. Jensen does spin in his chair but Aisha doesn't deign to comment.

Jensen never gets to hear the conversation in which Clay convinces Cougar to take the assignment, but Jensen assumes it went with not a lot of commentary. Cougar tends to accept orders and execute them beatifully without any verbal posturing. Jensen is also not privy to whatever miraculous discussion led to Cougar's current attire. Jensen was left to Aisha's tender mercies and the barrel of a very shiny gun. It was perhaps a little emasculating to sit still while listening to Aisha mutter about his twink potential but with her fingernails that close to his eyes Jensen wasn't about to make a comment, though Jensen is of the personal opinion that his typical hair gel is just fine thanks. At the moment Jensen isn't even resentful because he's too busy being distracted by Cougar's ass.

Typically when Jensen sees some fine body parts he takes the time to comment, alerting the rest of his team to the fact that there is an exceedingly hot chick in their presence. Cougar is, of course, not a hot chick but Jensen is completely open to equal opportunity ogling. It's just that in his typical day-to-day existance Jensen has no reason to be around men as smoking as Cougar. Well, except for Cougar. But Cougar is typically in BDU pants not leather ones. Jensen didn't even know Cougar owned leather pants. They look like someone might have painted them on. Jensen's actually worried about what his eyes might do when Cougar turns around.

To avoid any potentially awkward moments, or death by long-range flying bits of lead, Jensen manfully averts his eyes to a point over Cougar's surprisingly bare head and says,

"You're not wearing your hat?" because it's the first thing his dry throat can rasp. Jensen tries very hard not to let his gaze wander the curve of Cougar's exposed neck where he's pulled his hair back into a low ponytail. Cougar's been hiding a great neck, long and strong and nearly as distracting as leather pants. Cougar turns his head with a carefully raised eyebrow and Jensen has a sinking suspicion that Cougar knows Jensen's been staring. The tilt of his head draws Jensen's attention to the really nice curvy place where his jaw and throat meet. That's a totally reasonable point to be fixated on. Jensen stalwartly doesn't meet Cougar's eyes.

"There will be dancing" Cougar says, which makes sense. Cougar loves that hat and Jensen doesn't want to see the destruction reigned upon the dancefloor it got knocked off on.

"Oh, yeah." Jensen agrees. Cougar knocks his fingers against the hood of the car next to him and Jensen rings around to the driver's side, "You want shotgun?" he checks and catches the keys with only a little fumbling when Cougar lobs them over the car.

The drive is silent, but with Cougar that's unsurprising. Jensen more used to having Clay's voice giving occasional orders to fill that silence, but without his earpiece the car feels more oppressively quiet. Jensen wonders if that's because of all the comments on Cougar's outfit he's holding behind his teeth. It's really not his fault if he starts humming quietly under his breath in the face of that stress. _You, I want to take you to a gay bar!_  is totally reasonable to have running through his head. If Cougar recognizes the melody he doesn't comment, Jensen doesn't glance over to read his face either, concentrating firmly on not crashing out of distraction.

The club is in a college district, unsurprisingly. All night diners and closed trendy clothing stores are bookended by an all night grocery and various clubs and bars all pouring their music and people loudly onto the sidewalk. Jensen takes the walk to measure deep breaths and shake a little of the tension from where he was white-knuckling the wheel out of his hands. Cougar prowls along beside him like just wearing leather pants and a tight black t-shirt puts him in character. Jensen doesn't find the same transformative quality in his own too-tight t-shirt and equally tight jeans. The fact that Aisha made him shave is actually the reverse of helping. Jensen is proud of his goatee and maintains it immaculately. Only his sheer terror of Aisha with her mind bent on a cause really allowed the indignity. Of course, the fact that he might be able to blend in with the co-eds is a reasonable perk and facial hair does go a fair way in being under cover if anyone ever reviews CCTV footage or something.

The club is set in between an art supplies store that's closed due to the late hour, and a Pita place that probably should be open, but doesn't have any lights on inside. The cue at the front isn't particularly long and Jensen shuffles in after Cougar, trying not to bounce to much on the balls of his feet. Cougar is still relaxed, hips canted in a way that makes him look like he's leaning back against something even though he's just standing in line. A group of guys passing on the sidewalk whistle at him and Cougar tips his invisible hat. Jensen stifles his laughter under Cougar's glare. The big black bouncer isn't nearly as intimidating as Roque and Jensen hands over his ID with an unrepressed grin. The man stamps his hand with what is a goddamn rainbow and smiling cloud. Jensen mentally shrugs and hurries down the corridor to catch up with Cougar. There's another window with a woman behind it manning a cash box at the far end. The closer they get the more the sound vibrates through Jensen's ribcage. They show their stamped hands and she takes their money and adds a small sharpy 'x' to his wrist. Neither of them need the coat check so they pass through the door and into the club.

The furnishings are fairly modern, low booths of plastic-covered seating set into the wall on the far side of the bar but no tables that Jensen can see. The bar itself is a oval of gleaming black, crowded with men and their drinks around a space-age-y center construction of metal bars, that support both racks of alcohol, and above that a barely clad man dancing in a way that's mostly defined by hip thrusting. The actual dance floor beyond has a similar amount of hip action going, from what Jensen can see through the crowd. There's a DJ's booth elevated at the back, glowing lights and towering speakers.

"Carlos!" someone calls, waving at them from the bar. Jensen blinks and stops gaping as Cougar flicks two fingers in a lazy salute as response. Cougar gives a small shake of his head at Jensen's curiosity. It takes a moment, but Jensen refocuses on actually working. A preliminary scan of the dance floor doesn't show their target. They need to make the right connections to get invited to the back of the club, the secret and exclusive second club within where, among other acts, contracts and agreements of a more arms-deal related nature are also drawn up. Jensen scans the bar next, the side of it he can see from his current position but doesn't see their target. He does spot Cougar though the guy who waved to him is nowhere in sight.

Cougar is leaning back against the bar and sipping obscenely from a bottle of beer. Jensen's never seen Cougar drink from a beer bottle before. He's more a pint glass kind of guy in Jensen's experience. If the visual evidence now is anything to go by, Jensen can see why the guy would stop, the amount of inappropriate propositions it probably engenders would be enough to make any guy go for the foam-on-my-mustache look instead. Not that that can't be suggestive. Jensen closes his eyes for a quick moment shaking his head. That mental image dispelled, Jensen heads to the other side of the bar. Cougar's clearly working his area, eyes sharp on the dance floor. If anyone can spot their marks, it's the sniper. Jensen's just going to check out the bar and the booths and try not to make any comments that get him decked.

It turns out the shaving and lack of his normal hair gel really does it for some guys. Or maybe that's Jensen's natural physique and the too-tight shirt (sadly not in Petunia's pink) and Aisha can't take any of the credit. Either way, it turns out Jensen doesn't have to buy his drink. After flashing a brilliant grin in the direction the bartender pointed, because that kind of generosity deserves acknowledgment, Jensen wanders over by the booths. Their target isn't in any of the clusters of people there and Jensen feels a bit like a creep trying to avoid watching the dudes making out on the far left bench. Jensen's casual stroll back to the bar doesn't turn up their mark either. However, it turns out there's a spot at the bar by a guy, only a few years younger then Jensen, in a shirt that reads "talk geeky to me". Jensen takes that as a sign.

From the way he's blushing and stammering Jensen thinks he perhaps shouldn't have started talking about his favorite programming languages before even introducing himself but he's going to have to make some contacts to find their guy and this is as good a place as any to start. It turns out geeky-guy is actually pretty smart, getting a masters degree in computer science. Jensen might forget just a little about their end goal in the distraction of computers. That is until Cougar appears ridiculously close in his personal space.

"Jensen." Cougar says. Jensen tries very hard not to fail in surprise, the guy is silent like a cat.

"Oh, hey Cougar. Cougar this is --" Jensen gestures to his new friend, who's back to looking nervous and awkward.

"Simon," Simon says. Cougar tilts his head and Simon visibly swallows.

Jensen grins at Simon, "Sorry, I gotta go, but nice talkin to ya!" Jensen steps back from the bar and Cougar shadows him as they move toward the dance floor. "I didn't get distracted! I swear, I was just making connections, we don't know who will have the entry-" Cougar gives him a look. Jensen sighs, "Yeah, fine probably not the computer science major, but-" Cougar tilts his head toward the dance floor. They probably should scout it, but there's no great way to do that. There's an upper balcony but the press of people on the floor is such that it'd really just be a sea of heads. Cougar follows Jensen's gaze to the crowded balcony where men with various drinks watch the dancing below.

"I tried" Cougar says and Jensen nods.

"So, what's the plan?" Jensen asks. Cougar looks over him speculatively and Jensen tries to remain very still. If possible he freezes even more when Cougar hooks a finger into one of Jensen's belt loops and tilts his head toward the dance floor. Cougar-speak is much more efficient for loud club situations so Jensen just nods and follows as Cougar leads him out onto the dance floor.

Jensen had no idea that Cougar could dance. It stands to reason, the guy is graceful and coordinated and physically capable at everything else he does. Jensen's typical dancing routine is more about jumping in place and crashing into people, but that doesn't seem to be the vibe of this club. It's hard to concentrate on scanning the faces of the people they pass, not tripping over or knocking into anyone, and not watching they way Cougar's hips twitch through the crowd. It's just so stereotypical that the guy should move like salsa, but all Jensen can think are flash backs to his high school P.E. class where the sharp voiced lady with glasses kept telling him to use "latin hips" and he kept stepping on poor Sophie's feet. Other schools didn't force their students to take ballroom dancing, Jensen just wanted a good game of dodgeball, really. Cougar's let go of his pants, probably because it's so crowded and Jensen's sort of trailing him through the crowd. Unless he wanted to get as up in Cougar's business as seems typical here, Jensen reckons he's going to be a few feet behind and ducking elbows to his diaphragm for the rest of the night. So far there's still no sign of the man they're looking for.

Jensen stumbles across the single female couple on the dancefloor and gets a little distracted by short skirts, wandering hands and their really enthusiastic kissing. It's probably a good thing that neither of them seem to notice him because the moment he realizes he's staring he feels like a horrible person. They're definitely undergrads and when Beth goes to college Jensen's gonna follow her and kill anyone that looks at his baby niece like that. Jensen ducks back into the crowd. Around the next group Jensen slams to a halt like he's introduced his face to a brick wall. Mentally he has, a flashing "danger, danger" sign blaring ignored.

Somehow Cougar's lost his hair-tie, possibly because of the guy who has his hands in Cougar's hair. As Jensen watches Cougar rolls up the guys body in a suggestive S-curve Jensen didn't even know was physically possible. The guy isn't the same one from the bar, but he's all twined into Cougar's space like sharing intimate breathing room is totally normal. Cougar's not a cuddly guy for all of his emotionally-fluffy chocolate-eating center under the badass sniper facade.

"Cougar!" Jensen blurts before he can think better of it. Right now his brain and his mouth are on totally different wavelengths. Cougar turns, still pressed tight up against dancing guy but now facing Jensen. He doesn't look unhappy, none of the oh-shit-we're-gonna-die tightness in his face or the I-don't-actually-want-to-do-this-but-I-will expression he saves for Clay's most ridiculous suggestions. There's an I've-got-this smirk there a contemplative tilt to his head that isn't worry but is asking if Jensen's going to be an asshole and blow their cover. Jensen swallows. Maybe dancing guy is related to their mark somehow.

Without much consideration, Jensen walks closer to Cougar. Cougar's hands tangle into this beltloops again, dragging his hips forward. Cougar leans his head back against the shoulder of the guy behind him. Jensen looks up into his face, but doesn't recognize him. He's attractive, model-pretty with cut cheekbones and gorgeous lips, tall and slim and of course Cougar's got the hottest guy in the club getting handsy with his abs. Jensen wonders for a moment if he should just leave because who is he to get in the way of such a fucking sexy combination. But the guy looks him over with a slow growing smile, "Nice arms." He says with a weirdly pointed look at Jensen's inseam. Jensen blinks rapidly before opening and shutting his mouth, unable to find a proper retort. Dancing guy flick his eyes down to Cougar.

"I'll leave him to you?" he says to Cougar. Cougar tilts his chin up fractionally and the guy whispers something in Cougar's ear before giving him one last squeeze and drifting away into the crowd.

"Wha-" Jensen asks but Cougar's already slid forward, arms coming up to brace against Jensen's shoulders. Jensen can feel the slightest brush of his lips when Cougar whispers,

"Easier to talk like this." Jensen can't stop his shiver and though he doesn't dare to turn to see Cougar's face he's pretty damn sure he can feel the smile.

"Okay." Jensen says.

"You are not dancing." Cougar points out. Jensen has been keeping very still. That probably is strange looking on a dance floor. Jensen tries to loosen his knees, to bounce a little. Cougar huffs a laugh then insinuates one of his legs between Jensen, shifting even closer.

Jensen can't stop his blurted, "Oh my god." Cougar tilts his head back and Jensen knows that smile. That is the _you're going to kiss me_ smile that Jensen has seen Cougar pull on girls in bars all over the world. It always works. Jensen thinks about that for a minute under Cougar's patient gaze. He thinks about the guys who recognized Cougar and called him Carlos, he thinks about the fact that Cougar owns leather pants and moves like he knows what he's doing, like he's comfortable here, how Clay didn't really have to ask Cougar and Cougar was the obvious choice. And he was the obvious other choice. Jensen thinks that Clay deserves whatever he gets. Jensen thinks that Cougar already has a leg pressed up against his hard-on and really subtlety is a ship that's already sailed. Jensen thinks it's probably past time Cougar stopped waiting. So he kisses Cougar.

Jensen's never made out with someone on a dance floor, but when in Rome. Fisting a hand in Cougar's hair and tugging until he moans and bites down hard on Jensen's lip is almost as awesome as having full access to groping his leather-clad ass. Jensen is much better at this tongue tangling, hip grinding, shamble than he is at dancing and Cougar seems to be equally appreciative. The fact that Cougar uses his "latin hips" to the point of distraction for Jensen is something Jensen's going to have to learn to replicate. His 9th grade P.E. teacher would be proud. At the moment though Jensen's just concentrating on kissing, and not coming in his pants. The whole finding their target thing is probably a lost cause for the night, as all Jensen's really set on finding is Cougar's lips and teeth, and possibly what's in his pants. Like he's a mind reader, Cougar leans back fractionally, lips quirking suggestively as he nods to the door.

"Yeah, definitely!" Jensen agrees. This time Jensen doesn't get lost as they make their way through the crowd. His fingers don't actually make it into Cougar's pants before they hit the corridor to exiting the club, but that's mostly because the leather is so freaking tight. Cougar does bat him away from popping the button before they hit the street because Cougar seems to be maintaining some higher brain function. Jensen never promised to be that capable.

The ride back is silent, and Jensen white-knuckles the wheel and very carefully does not glance over at Cougar with his messed up hair and kiss swollen lips and fucking obscenely tight leather pants. Jensen hopes that this time Clay's the one who forgot to bring earplugs.


End file.
